Golden
by Winter-Grown-Lily
Summary: Sandy pays a long-time friend of his a visit. Spoilers for the ROTG movie. Hinted USUK, but only if you put rose-tinted glasses on.


Golden

_Sandy pays a long-time friend of his a visit. Spoilers for the ROTG movie. Hinted USUK, but only if you put rose-tinted glasses on._

Snowflakes gently spiral down from the sky, and blanket everything in a hush quiet. In that late hour, the decorated London streets were devoid of any waking souls, thanks to the Sandman and his dream-giving sand.

He casts out another spray of golden sand to a double story house. It drifts easily through the windows, phasing through it as it was nothing but golden air, into a blue-pirate themed room. It hovers above the blonde head of a sleeping child tucked warmly into his blankets, where it soon shifts into a picture of the boy playing on his ship. The ship rocks in time with invisible waves as the boy brings out a miniature telescope. Underneath the dream vision, the child smiles and turns over in his sleep.

Satisfied with his work, Sandy moves to another part of the quiet town with the intention of spreading more dreams to other children. What he did find, however, was a man he scribbling on some papers with a loopy scrawl, neatness gone in the wake of sleep. Occasionally, he uses his other hand to rub his glassy eyes or to cover a yawn.

Sandy hesitates for a moment, floating outside the window with the falling snow, then he taps on the window, the feather-light raps causing the drooping head to snap up at attention. The head swivels, green eyes falling upon Sandy. After a few moments, a tired smile stretches across his lips. He scrapes back his chair and shuffles across the carpet to open the window, even though he knew the dream being could pass through glass and wood. "Evening Sandy. What brings the pleasure of your visit?"

The Sandman flashes an image of a clock with hands rapidly speeding, then a calendar with the pages passing in a blur. The man chuckles at the display, stepping back to let his old friend inside. "True, it's been far too long…why don't you come inside for a moment? Would like some tea?"

Sandy shakes his head and floats inside, making a beeline to the fireplace. The man shuts the window closed after checking for any more visitors. "Where's Jack?" He asks as he seats himself back at the desk, his eyes still on Sandy.

The dream being ponders with a finger on his chubby chin, then lets his fist hit his open hand. A light-bulb forms above his head, before it forms an achingly familiar ex-colony. The man lets out a sigh that was in between resigned and amused. "Of course. With Christmas so close around the corner, how could he not visit his new-found friends?" The man's face darkens for a moment before it clears as he addresses Sandy again. "I hope the Pitch fiasco has been taken care of…?" Despite his casual tone, concern and fear flicker in his eyes. He could still remember the helplessness that wracked the parents when their children were plagued with nightmares that wouldn't disappear, lasting long after the cuddles and kisses had been pressed lovingly to their foreheads.

Sandy releases a silent sigh, nodding more solemnly as sand gathers slowly into his hand. Who would've thought that his dream sand, which brought happiness to the children's' long nights, could be used to bring fear as well? As the sand manifests itself into a lazy cat, Sandy watches the cats idly stretch and curl into itself into a nap.

His friend watches the figure with too shiny green eyes. He reaches out with a gentle finger and brushes against the back of the cat. "Such a bright colour…" He begins with a sigh. Some of the particles come off with every stroke, curling into the air and disappearing. "It's like his hair…" Sandy didn't bother prodding more out of the tired man, since his eyes blur further with memories and thoughts of times gone by. A fond smile tugs at the corner of his lips, and Sandy doesn't need to guess what, or who, the man is thinking of.

Then the man moves back, breaking the spell he had placed upon himself as he turns back to his desk. "I haven't even finished work yet…" He mutters, blinking rapidly in an attempt to rouse himself. Despite the effort, a yawn escapes from his mouth and in between his splayed fingers as he tries to cover it.

Noticing this sign of tiredness, Sandy floats closer to the still muttering man, placing a small hand on his shoulder. The man stops his whispered sayings and looks at Sandy with raised, oversized eyebrows. The dream being points to the couch, forming a series of 'Zzzz's above his head.

"Sleep? No, I still have miles to go…" He manages to mumble before another yawn stops his sentence. "Before I sleep…miles to go before I sleep…" Gazing pointedly as if his point was made, Sandy tugs harder at the rumpled jacket in the direction of the couch.

After more grumbles and grouses, the man finally relents and begins to walk to the inviting couch. "Knowing you, you would just hit me with your dream sand like last time…" He gripes. "I didn't even make it to the sodding bed…"

Sandy gave a little smile of his own as he floated next to the shambling man, remembering the incident. At least, he was kind enough to let his friend lie down first.

Once he was resting comfortably, the man pulls up a knitted throw rug that had been resting at his feet as the Sandman lets some of his sand drift towards and around him. "There's no need for…this kind of business…" He begins slowly, blinking slower and slower. "Nonetheless…I appreciate it Sandy…" One, two breaths and one final blink, and he asleep.

Sandy regards the slumbering man, with his now smooth face and non-creasing eyebrows, then floats out of the room, passing through the window easily. As he leaves his friend in the warm room, the Sandman gathers a cloud and resumes his nightly duties with the hushed snow.

_That night, England dreamt of golden hair and eyes as blue as the skies above, and a face that stared adoringly up at him._

"_Let's go home, America." _

_Later that morning, he would wake up to find his cheeks wet. _

_A/N: A little while ago (okay, back in January), a thought had occurred to me:_

'_Since Iggy can see fairies, would he be able to see the Guardians as well?'_

_AND THUS, THIS FIC WAS BORN._

_I've tried to incorporate some meanings of the colour gold into this fic, seeing as Sandy's main colour is gold *obvious comment is obvious* According to some sites, the colour gold can represent being optimistic and positive while drawing attention to itself, as well as being selfish and demanding._

_Why does that sound like a certain hamburger loving hero? XD_

_Anyways, thanks for reading! Reviews aren't needed, but welcomed~_


End file.
